“Well, I don’t feel like standing it. The more her thoughts dwelt upon the subject, the more convinced she was that she could not go to any one for help; she would have to solve the riddle by her own efforts, by some future experience. Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs. Shamefaced curiosities began to come back into her mind, thinly disguised as literature and art. You wouldn't rob Mr. "Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly. Her faculties seemed for a moment numbed. The moment I entered the room, and found you a prisoner in the hands of Jonathan Wild, I guessed how matters stood, and acted accordingly.
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